


Spoiled

by writetheniteaway



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 08:07:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writetheniteaway/pseuds/writetheniteaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack is sick, bored, and refuses to get some rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated with well wishes to shesthekingofnewyork. Feel better! Read, comment, enjoy!!

“You take one more step Jack Kelly so help me.” She glares at him from the kitchen table.

“Thought you were going to the office.” He grumbles.

“You’re sick.”

“Can take care of myself.”

“Go back to bed.”

“I’m f-“ He sneezes before he can get the word out.

“Go. Back. To. Bed.” She emphasizes every word.

“’S just a cold. Not gonna kill me.”

“I might, if you don’t start taking care of yourself.” She moves back away from the table.

“I have work to do.” He whines.

“It can wait. Go back-“

“I’m not going back to bed.” His voice has just enough edge to make her stop pushing.

“Fine.” She sighs. “Sit. I made you soup.”

“You cooked? And the building’s still standing?” He smirks.

“A simple thank you would be perfectly sufficient.” She snaps.

He holds up his hands as a white flag of truce, pulling out the seat opposite the one she just left. She ladles him a bowlful of chicken broth, pulls a spoon from the drawer, and carries both over to the table.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He says, his tone genuine even if it’s muffled by a sore throat.

“You’re welcome.” They spend the next few minutes in relative silence, the only noise her typewriter and his spoon against the bowl. He can tells she’s watching him, looking for the first sign of worsening that could warrant her dragging him back to bed.

He manages to last a few minutes before his throat scratches too much and he coughs, his whole chest vibrating with the force.

She says nothing, just stares at him from across the table, her meaning plainly written on her face. He rubs his eyes and rests his head in his hands. Whether he wants to admit or not, he’s still sick.

“Jack,” She starts cautiously.

“’M goin’, I’m goin’.” He drags himself back into the bedroom. He _did_ feel sick, but he wanted to stay up and around, not shut up alone. From the open door she can see him sitting on the edge, stubborn as ever refusing to rest. She puts her head on the table in frustrated defeat. He was trying to make her feel sorry for him and she knew she was a sucker for it. She follows him into their room and sits herself next to him.

“If I stay here for awhile do you promise to try and get some sleep?”

“You’re busy.”

"I've got some time."

"Spoiling me you know." 

“Do you want me to stay or not?”

He settles himself under the covers as an answer. She sits cross-legged next to him, running her hand along his forearm in no particular rhythm. He tries to say something but she shushes him. “I stay, you be quiet and sleep. That’s the deal.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything else, he got what he wanted after all. If he was going to be stuck in bed all day she might as well keep him company. She knew he was just being cheeky, needy even, but she let it slide. If he was sick and the most he wanted was for her to sit with him awhile? The work could wait.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all, especially beccgallanter for the support and patience!! Comments and criticisms welcome!! Enjoy!

“That ain’t resting sweetheart.”

She glares at him over the top of her notebook. “You won’t let me out of bed, that doesn’t mean I don’t have work to do.”

He sets the cup of tea he made down on the nightstand and plucks the book and pencil from her hand.

“Jack!” She wants to yell at him, but her voice comes out barely a scratch.

“You’re sick.”

“Can still write.”

“You were up all night coughing, you need some sleep.”

“I don’t have time to sleep, I’m in bed because you won’t leave me alone. I need to write and since you won’t let me near my typewriter you’d better give me my notebook back.”

“You’re not helping your voice any yelling at me.”

“I mean it Jack!” She reaches for the book but he lifts it out of reach.

“Drink your tea, sweetheart. It’ll make you feel better.”

“Feel fine.” Her voice contradicts her again.

“Will you stop bein’ stubborn long enough to get better?”

She crosses her arms and glares. “If I drink it can I finish my article?”

He hands her the mug. “When’s your deadline?”

“Friday.” She takes a sip of the tea, and stifles a sigh. The heat’s soothing her sore throat, but she isn’t about to give him the victory of admitting it.

“Sleep for a few hours, then write.”

“But-“

“Sleep first.” He insists. He moves her notebook onto the bureau for insurance.

“Fine.” She huffs, setting the mug back onto the nightstand. She pulls her covers up to her chin and turns her back on him. He rolls his eyes before taking her now empty cup back to the kitchen, leaving the door slightly ajar. He sits at the table for a few minutes doodling, sure she’ll actually sleep if he leaves her alone long enough.

A string of coughs practically pull her off the pillow and she’s having a hard time catching her breath. He goes back to their room to check on her, rubbing circles into her back to help calm the coughing.

“Ya alright?” She nods, rubbing her eyes in frustration. He props the pillows up against their headboard and helps her readjust the blankets that her coughing fit had scattered. He leans against the edge of the bed but she pulls on his shirt until he’s sitting next to her.

He keeps a hand on her back and the other smoothes her hair out of her face. “You’re spoiling me.” She laughs, softly. He smiles in remembrance but doesn’t reply, just keeps his hand circling while she drifts off. She made sure to stay with him when he was sick, even if it was just for the comfort of being there. That was more than enough reason to return the favor.


End file.
